


Foreign Relations

by ancalime8301



Series: Spencer Stories [15]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Cats, Fluff, Gen, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancalime8301/pseuds/ancalime8301
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer goes off for a few days and comes back with a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foreign Relations

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/)**watsons_woes** July Writing Prompt #14: _La Fête Nationale: aka Bastille Day. In honor of the holiday, include France or something French. Or if you really wish, write today's entry in French!_

Spencer hadn't been seen for three days and I was beginning to worry. Mrs. Hudson tried to reassure me that he was going to turn up sooner or later; after all, she'd put food out for him every night and it was always gone come morning. I did not remind her that there were many hungry cats in the metropolis that would happily consume food left out unattended. Holmes theorized that Spencer had found more satisfying things to do with his time, perhaps it was a lady friend he'd found. I told him he was being crude and worried anew what might befall a cat in London.

As it turned out, Holmes was right, in a way. Mrs. Hudson later told me that Spencer appeared in the kitchen for breakfast on the fifth morning as if he'd never left and, after eating, he came upstairs to find me. I only knew that I woke as soon as he meowed, relieved beyond words that he was in my room, safe and sound.

But he didn't stop his meowing even after I got up; finally I understood he wanted me to follow him. I dressed quickly and he led me down the stairs, looking back periodically to make sure I was still there.

We went into the sitting room, where Spencer plopped himself down in front of Holmes, sitting in his armchair, and again meowed insistently. Holmes looked at the cat, then at me. "What does the animal want?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I think he wants us to follow him."

Holmes heaved a put-upon sigh but he put aside his pipe and removed his dressing gown in favor of his jacket.

We trooped out the kitchen door in Spencer's wake but did not have to go far--a few houses down he halted beside an empty crate and called out. A bedraggled grey cat with orange eyes emerged from behind the crate. Spencer reassured the other cat with a few licks to its head, then looked back at us and meowed again.

"He found a friend," I said. "But I don't know that Mrs. Hudson will want two underfoot."

"No, he found a lost cat," Holmes corrected. "This feline is not accustomed to life on the streets. Just look at its coat."

Spencer meowed as if agreeing with Holmes, and I had to concede that this new cat looked like it had led a pampered life before its adventure out of doors.

"If you will lure this cat indoors, I will contact the French embassy."

"The French embassy?" I repeated, uncomprehending.

"This breed of cat is favored by the French and thus this one is likely an escapee from a French household."

 

And again, Holmes turned out to be right. A French attache was at Baker Street by teatime to fetch the cat. He thanked us repeatedly, enthusing that his wife would be quite relieved to have her dear girl back. "I told her it was not a good idea to bring the cat with us, but she would not listen. She is very fond of her Lili, you see."

Spencer followed their guest and the cat Lili to the door as they left, then meowed, perhaps in farewell.

We thought that was the end of it, until we received a letter from France a few months later. It was addressed to Holmes, but after skimming it, the corner of his mouth quirked and he held it out toward me. "I believe this is meant for you."

It was a very polite letter thanking us for recovering Lili, particularly since it turned out that she had been pregnant when she was returned. She had safely delivered a litter of six kittens a fortnight before; some of the kittens were grey like their mother, while the others were orange and white.

I read this with a vague feeling of embarrassment, then looked down at the cat on the hearth. "Oh, Spencer," I said, laughing helplessly.

He stopped licking his front paw and looked smug.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 2: Lili the cat is intended to be a [Chartreux](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chartreux), a breed of cat from France.


End file.
